Mon Amour
by mogami2000
Summary: The script is brilliant, but a bit ... mature. LoveMe's number one girl decides extra coaching is needed to make this job believable
1. Chapter 1

_Mon Amour  
_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Skip Beat! or Hiroshima Mon Amour_

_

* * *

Chapter 1  
_

Although he disguised his iron fist under layers of heavy-handed affability, there was little question that President Takarada Lory exerted a degree of control over the private lives of his celebrity stable that was very probably illegal. Had he known of it, he would have nixed the project currently clutched in Mogami Kyoko's hands without hesitation. He had Plans for Kyoko's private life, ones that dovetailed with Plans he had for the private life of another LME star. No matter how profound or well written, a script that opened with an extended bout of soulless and illicit carnal acts was not one he would have approved for any of his LoveMe girls. The LoveMe section was for those who lacked appreciation of romantic love. Giving someone in that section a project that reinforced the idea that emotions were damaging and dangerous risked undoing months of work.

Even well meaning (or meddling, depending on one's viewpoint) agency heads took vacations, however. Lory was currently on safari with his granddaughter, gallivanting around an African savannah and snapping many, many pictures of animals he wanted to add to his personal menagerie (much to the irritation of the park rangers, who were tired of listening to him insist that one little leopard wouldn't be missed, that the females of the pride would be happier if they didn't need to chase down their own gazelles, and wouldn't the cheetah family be safer if they were a few continents away from the larger carnivores?). Because of his extended absence, Lory was not available when the French film agency called. He could have overruled the foreign director's insistence that the actress who played Natsu in Box R was exactly what was needed for their updated, edgy remake of _Hiroshima, Mon Amour_. The script would have been expertly funneled to a more mature actress, and done in such a deft way the director would have thought it was his own idea.

But the President was on safari harassing hapless wild animals, and so his literal-minded subordinates passed the script through channels. Which was why the head of the Talent Division, Sawara Takenori, sat uncomfortably at his desk watching as Kyoko read through the first pages of the script, his fingers steepled in front of his face to hide his blush from the actress.

The original _Hiroshima, Mon Amour_, as Sawara recalled, was _edgy_ enough, thank you. Watching it as a young film student in university, he had been too embarrassed to even glance at his female classmates while it was running.

Kyoko wasn't blushing. Sawara thought it might be because she was too flabbergasted at the opening scene. Her eyes were so wide they were nearly bugging out of her face. "Ah – has the male lead been cast -?" she asked, her voice faint.

"Yes, it's –" and Sawara named a French actor famous far and wide for his romances on and off screen.

Kyoko stared at him blankly. Sawara sighed. _Of course she hasn't heard of him. _

"I don't speak French," was her next comment. Sawara squirmed a little. It didn't sound as if Kyoko was _objecting_ to the script; rather, it was as if she was thoughtfully considering whether or not obstacles could be overcome.

"You'll have a phonetic coach for what little French you need to speak. Most of your lines will be delivered in Japanese. It's a switch from the original, where the man was Japanese and the woman was French. They plan for all of your scenes to be filmed on sets in Tokyo."

Kyoko nodded, her expression pensive. "It's … it's not what I thought my debut movie would be like."

"Because it's a foreign production, it technically wouldn't count as your LME debut," Sawara assured her. "However, I understand why you wouldn't want to do it. Since they asked for you in particular I had to show the script to you." Relief ran across his face as he reached for the phone on his desk. "I'll tell the agency you aren't avail—"

"Oh, no, no, I don't want to turn it down without due consideration!" gasped Kyoko, going from pensive to almost manically frantic. Sawara flinched back into his chair; Kyoko's abrupt mood changes were never a good thing. "That would be unprofessional!" Clutching the script protectively to her chest, she bowed deeply. "Please allow me to keep this overnight, so I may study it and make an educated decision!"

Sawara squinted at her through the lenses of his glasses. "Ah … Kyoko-chan, you _do_ understand the nature of the opening scene?"

"Yes, of course," said Kyoko seriously. "It's metaphorical. From what I see in the script, they both have survived terrible events. Although they aren't violent with one another, they are reliving violence through their interactions. I want to see –" she flipped through the script, frowning, "—what it is that brought them to that place, that time. I can't do that unless I read the rest of the script."

And that, reflected Sawara, was the single biggest problem. Not that Kyoko would be acting out mature content, not that having a European agency owe LME a favor was advantageous from a business perspective, not that the President was away trying to cuddle exasperated wild animals that would rather be left alone, but that the script was good. Good? It was _brilliant._ For those in the profession, it had _award-winning-international-hit_ written all over it in glowing, iridescent letters that made Kyoko's neon pink jump suit pale in comparision. LoveMe's number one member was instinctively reacting to the quality of the script, eager to continue reading. She had not yet comprehended, intellectually or emotionally, that the _metaphorical interactions_ that so intrigued her would have to be acted out using _her_ body.

Sawara really didn't want to be around once Kyoko did finally realize that.

So he let her take the script away, breathing a sigh of relief when she made it out the door before the epiphany occurred.


	2. Chapter 2

_Mon Amour_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Skip Beat! or Hiroshima Mon Amour_

_

* * *

_

_Chapter 2_

"MOKO-SAN!"

LoveMe's number two girl pivoted elegantly, holding her slim arm straight out, hand flattened and cocked at the wrist. An instant later the forehead of LoveMe number one smacked against her palm. Kanae held off the other girl's flailing attempt at an embrace with the ease of long practice. "It is seriously too early for this," the older woman muttered.

Kyoko's eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks (although they never did). "But, Moko-san, you've been on location, I haven't seen you in forEVER-!"

Kanae gazed at her with a combination of affection and exasperation. Of course, it wouldn't do to actually show any affection, so _exasperation_ was the only emotion visible on her face. "Two days, during which you filled up my voice mail box with silly messages despite the fact we talked to each other a dozen times."

"But two days is a long time to be without your best friend!" warbled Kyoko.

"Long enough for an insane number of LoveMe tasks to pile up," Kanae grumbled.

Kyoko immediately fell to the ground in a deep bow. "I'm sorry, it's my fault we're so behind! I'll work twice as hard to make up for it!"

"How is it your fault when I'm the one who has been gone?" Kanae asked rhetorically. Kyoko sat up at that, a considering expression on her face. Before she could come up with her usual convoluted logic as to why everything from the global recession on down was her fault, Kanae stomped on the script that had fallen by Kyoko's knees during her bow. "Oh, ho! What's this? A new drama? Another bad girl role, or are you finally cast as a princess?" She swooped it up, opening the cover before raising her eyebrows at the Romanized letters that made up the title page. "What _is_ this?" she asked in a more serious tone.

"It's a movie script," explained Kyoko. "I don't think it's a bad girl role, exactly, and it's certainly not a princess. I haven't read far enough to be really sure. I haven't agreed to take it yet. It's just, I couldn't stop reading it."

"Well, let me take a look and see what you've gotten yourself into this time."

It took Kanae five minutes to flip through and memorize the script. That was three minutes longer than usual. Several times Kanae re-scanned a page or a section. There was an industry saying that a good script was a _page-turner._ It was an apt description; most actors skipped large portions of scripts as they searched out scenes they were in. Reading a script from cover to cover like a book was a rare compliment. In Kanae's case, her freaky ability to memorize anything at a glance meant most scripts that passed through her hands ended up being read all the way through, often accidentally as she flipped pages. That meant slowing down to actually _read_ a section was the compliment. The script was _that _good.

In fact, it was freakin' brilliant.

It was also had some startling and graphic imagery involving the main female character. Kanae directed an assessing stare at her friend before turning her disbelieving gaze back to the script.

There were only two female characters.

Somehow, Kanae didn't think Kyoko was cast as The Mother. "Just how far have you read? Past the first page?"

"Of course!" said Kyoko indignantly. "Just because I can't memorize in a glance doesn't make me a slow reader! I was on page 15 when Sawara-san tried to take the script away from me."

If she read that far, Kyoko had to know just what the first twenty minutes of the film entailed. With that uncanny knack she had for _becoming_ a character, Kanae knew Kyoko would be able to pull it off. Still, did her friend truly realize what was involved-?

"Further in the script," said Kanae slowly, "you find out they are both married to other people, that they don't know each other, that this was meant to be a one-night stand. It becomes complicated because they are survivors of a war, a war they both feel they lost even though they were on opposite sides. They, she especially, relive painful wartime experiences. It's not cathartic. They don't come to terms with their encounter or with what happened during the war. It doesn't end happily."

For the second time that morning, Kyoko's eyes brimmed with tears. "But that's so sad! They're so obsessed with their pasts they don't even see each other as people!"

"Yes, an obsession with someone in their past and being unable to see what's right under their nose couldn't possibly describe anyone in this very room," said Kanae slyly.

Kyoko, loudly sniffing over the pathos described in the script, apparently didn't hear her. Kanae sighed, and this time her exasperation was genuine. "You realize that the first time you see either of them, they are naked? They spend the first third of the movie having sex?"

"Well, it isn't really sex," said Kyoko with that odd prosaic streak she occasionally demonstrated. "It's a metaphor for—"

"MOU!" screamed Kanae. Flinging the script down, she advanced on her fellow LoveMe member, a maniacal gleam in her eyes. "Someone _you don't even know_," she reached out, slapping the palms of her hands across Kyoko's chest, "is going to have _his hands_ all over _these, _and his mouth, too!"

There was a pause.

Then Kyoko uttered an unearthly shriek, escaping her co-worker's grasp and levitating to the furthest corner of the narrow room so quickly it was as if she vanished from one place before rematerializing in the other. She huddled there with her arms protectively crossed over her chest. "Wha – wha – _wha-?"_

"_Exactly_," snapped Kanae. "It's metaphorical in the script, but _you_ are going to be naked in bed with some guy you don't know for two or three _days_ while they do retakes, check lighting, get multiple angles _before_ post production turns it 'metaphorical'! Unless—" her gaze turned calculating "—_do _you know who it is? Is it Tsuruga-san?"

"_Why would it be okay if it's him?"_ screeched Kyoko.

Kanae clapped a hand over her face and muttered something. It sounded like _you're both morons, _although a person would have to be right next to her and not screeching in righteous indignation in order to hear it. "I was just thinking," she said calmly, "that since your sempai takes such good care of you on location, it would be easier for you if it were him. That's all. Do you know who has been cast?"

Shuddering in revulsion, Kyoko repeated the name Sawara told her.

In the next instance, Kanae was huddled in the corner opposite Kyoko, face buried in her knees as she muttered that life wasn't fair and she could _so_ do that part and the international stardom resulting from being in a movie with _him_ would not just be a ticket out of the LoveMe section but a blank check to any agency she wanted.

For a moment, the two girls crouched in their opposite corners, almost visible waves of despair radiating from both of them. Eventually Kanae took a deep breath, stood up, and turned to her still-huddled friend. "Enough," she said crossly. "I just wanted to make sure you understood what you were getting into. You'd be an idiot to turn this role down, and I know you're not an idiot."

"I can't do it!" wailed Kyoko.

Kanae rolled her eyes. "Mou! Then figure out what it will take for you _to_ do it! Find your role like you always do! If you refuse to do this because you're afraid of the part, I'll never forgive you! Nor will any other real actor!"

* * *

_Nearly twelve hours later…_

"Mogami-san?" the tall actor asked in mild surprise after answering the door. He observed the grocery bags she was carrying. "I'm sorry, were you cooking for me tonight? I must have forgotten."

"Ah, no, I came over on impulse because –"

She was cute when she stuttered and looked uncertain like that. It was hard to believe she had been in the Top Ten female celebrity list for the past six months. "You need help preparing for a role?" he asked kindly.

"Ah, yes."

Tsuruga Ren opened the door wider. "You know I'm always available to help you with your parts, Mogami-san. By all means, come in."


	3. Chapter 3

_Mon Amour_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Skip Beat! or Hiroshima Mon Amour_

_

* * *

_

_Chapter 3_

It might seem strange that Mogami Kyoko knew where everything was in a bachelor's kitchen better than the bachelor himself did.

The reason she did was the result of a conspiracy, albeit one she herself was unaware of. Tsuruga Ren, the busiest actor in Japan, possessed little in the way of appetite and nothing in the way of cooking skills. However, Kyoko always knew when Tsuruga-san was at home rather than on location, and which nights allowed the maximal amount of time for her to cook and the two of them to enjoy a meal together. She knew such details because Ren's manager Yashiro made _sure_ she knew his client's schedule.

There were a couple of facts Kyoko never realized about the situation: 1) the intertwining of their schedules made it seem to outsiders (and a few insiders) as if the two were dating and 2) although as a LoveMe girl Kyoko wasn't entitled to a manager, Yashiro's control over her own schedule meant he had been acting as her de facto one for over a year.

Actually, there were many more facts Kyoko never realized about her relationship with Tsuruga Ren. Those were just the most obvious ones.

This particular evening Kyoko was not only making miso soup and rice as she usually did, but also tonkatsu, deep-fried pork cutlets, as a special treat. She generally avoided preparing meat for Tsuruga-san, feeling he ate more than was healthy with all the fast food he wolfed down. Tonight, however, the favor she was going to ask of him was far larger than most. She hoped his American addiction to meat would put him in an amiable frame of mind when she asked him to sleep with her.

Because, after reading through the entire script and carefully considering her options, Kyoko decided that requesting her sempai's participation in a one-night stand was a necessary step in preparing for her role. Kanae told her to do whatever was needed to find her character. One thing Kyoko knew she had to do before the shoot was get used to a man's hands on her body.

And even though it was a huge imposition and he wasn't even in the production, Kanae's mention of Tsuruga-san as a possible participant in the on-screen love affair stayed with Kyoko for some reason.

Kyoko knew that, as she was an unsexy plain girl that lacked full F-cup-sized breasts, a star like Tsuruga-san who was daily around insanely beautiful models normally wouldn't look twice at her. However, he was still a man and (from what Kyoko heard, anyway) under certain circumstances men would sleep with anything vaguely female.

Besides, Kyoko reassured herself as she gave the miso soup another unnecessary stir, it wasn't as if she had a crush or was stalking him. She needed to do this for her upcoming role. Someone with his famously punishing work ethic would surely appreciate that.

The more she thought about it, the more Kyoko decided her sempai was the logical choice to help her understand this role in all the ways it needed to be understood.

All she had to do was get him a good enough mood that he couldn't say _no_.

Hence meat instead of tofu.

Already on edge because of the enormity of the favor she had to ask him, Kyoko was further unnerved by his own uncharactistic behavior. Tsuruga-san normally stayed out of the kitchen while she was cooking (well, Kyoko _insisted _he stay out of the kitchen because his efforts to help were anything but helpful). Tonight, however, he was lurking nearby, drawn in (he claimed) by the smell of deep-fried pork. Even being threatened with the spoon she used on the miso soup didn't drive him away. Instead he stayed just out of reach, leaning against the kitchen's counter as he watched her cook. "Is that something new, Mogami-san?"

"I told you, it's tonkatsu. I've made it for you before."

"Not the pork. _That," _and he nodded his head towards the miso soup. "I've never seen you beat anything so much that wasn't a dessert. What is it?"

Kyoko stared, horrified, at the miso soup. Unconsciously she had whipped it into a frothy concoction that looked as if it contained more air than broth. Grabbing a shallow serving bowl, she hastily dipped it into the liquid and took a sip. She breathed a sigh of relief. The over-aerated soup produced an unusual fizzy tingle against the tongue, but it didn't taste horrible. "It's just something new I'm trying out," she said brightly.

Tsuruga-san regarded her with open suspicion. "What _else_ are you trying out? You still have full bags."

"I thought I'd make bentos for you and Yashiro-san."

Tsuruga-san made a non-committal noise. "I'll put these away, then." Kyoko heard the rustling of plastic as he began to unpack the bags, then a heavy sigh. "Next time you decide to buy out the store, come get me first. You shouldn't be spending so much money on my groceries."

"Even when I go with you to the store, you don't buy healthy food," she retorted. "It's easier this way."

"At least let me pay you – what's this?"

Kyoko glanced over her shoulder. When she saw him holding _the script_ (she'd shoved it into a bag for ease of carrying), it was as if an electrified current ran through her body. Kyoko swore her very hair stood on end. Before she could utter a single sound, however, Tsuruga-san asked, "Is this the script you need help with?" and flipped it open.

He froze in place, staring at the name of the movie on the title page.

His expression was that blank, smooth gentleman's mask he wore sometimes. Kyoko associated it with extreme anger. However, this time she didn't feel the usual overwhelming dark aura, nor were her grudges responding even sluggishly to him. It was as if he really had shut off his emotions. "_Hiroshima, Mon Amour? _Mogami-san, is this for one of your acting classes?"

"You know it?" she asked in surprise.

He nodded, eyes riveted to the cover page. "My father—" he started. A startled expression crossed his face; he cut himself off.

Her sempai had never, ever mentioned any family to her before. "Your father?" Kyoko prompted.

"It's a favorite movie of his," responded Tsuruga-san, his voice clipped. "I probably saw it for the first time when I was ten or so."

_Don't pry,_ his tone said, and she didn't. "It doesn't seem like something a ten year old should watch," Kyoko remarked instead.

"It gave me nightmares," Tsuruga-san agreed, dryly.

_Intimacy gives him nightmares? That explains why there isn't a hint of gossip about him despite the fact he's always surrounded by beautiful women._ Scowling, Kyoko turned back to the over-aerated miso soup, unconsciously whipping it even more._ It would be cruel to ask him, then. I'll have to think of someone else…_

"Will you be watching it for your class?"

Kyoko fidgeted. "I haven't seen the original, no," she hedged.

"Why don't we watch it tonight, then?"

"You have it?"

"No, but I subscribe to half-a-dozen movie streaming services. It must be available on at least one of them." He smiled at her, the genuine smile she much preferred, not the fake sparkly one that made most women swoon. "I'll go set the table. Let's check after we finish eating."

* * *

If Tsuruga Ren was only a little surprised to see Kyoko when he opened his door this evening, it was because he was used to her appearing at odd hours. She provided meals for him on a regular basis, at first thanks to his matchmaking manager, later because it became a habit for her to cook one day mid-week and one day on the weekend.

Well, there was also the fact she was the only person on his building's security list that had _permission_ to call on him at any hour. Even Yashiro's visits were restricted. If _anyone_ knocked on his door after eight p.m. without security calling first, Ren knew it was _her._

Kyoko was acting a bit skittish tonight, which was why he suggested the movie. The two were used to watching late-night shows together after a meal. Hopefully the routine would relax her to the point that she would come clean about whatever thorny problem was bothering her this time.

He did insist that they finish their meal before starting the movie. _Hiroshima, Mon Amour_ was a difficult film to watch. He didn't want to waste Kyoko's pork chops (that was another clue that something was really bothering her; meat only appeared on the menu when she felt the need to soften him up for something) by losing his appetite five minutes into the film.

Once the used dishes were placed into the sink to soak (they had their usual argument, with Kyoko trying to immediately wash up and Ren refusing to let her do the cleaning since she had done the cooking), Ren grabbed the remote and used the search function to find a stream of the movie. "Do you know what the movie's about?" he asked as Kyoko curled into a corner of the sofa.

"Ah, somewhat," she said faintly.

He paused, turning to look at her. "Would you rather watch something else? I know the subject matter is difficult."

"No, no, I really want to see this," Kyoko assured him earnestly. "I think it's important for me to watch it."

Ren regarded her for another moment, trying to tease out why she sounded so determined. "All right, then," he finally said, pushing the button that started the stream. He went to the opposite corner of the sofa, settling in as black and white images flickered across his big screen television.

Truth be told, the sexual imagery that Sawara found so shocking during his college film history class was mild by modern standards. Ren wasn't uncomfortable watching the opening scene with the girl he liked (all right, more than liked, but _that_ wasn't something he could trust himself to admit in her presence) in the room. Kyoko showed more skin in her _Kyurara_ commercial. The aftermath of war's violence, however, was just as disturbing as the first time he saw it. The impersonal encounter that began the movie was laced with newsreel images of the Hiroshima bombing mere hours after the attack, the cold camera's eye as indifferent to the suffering as the couple was to each other.

It was weird that such a film would make him nostalgic for his parents and home.

_We had movie nights in my family. My father often picked artsy dramatic films like this one when it was his turn to choose, which is ironic because my father's the action star Hizuri Kuu. Although he's had a wildly successful career, he's so typecast he hasn't had any truly dramatic roles since he left Japan. He misses doing them_ was what Ren wanted to say when he saw the title on the script's cover page.

He couldn't begin to imagine how Hizuri Kuu's other "son" might take such an out-of-the-blue revelation.

Ren stole occasional glances at Kyoko as the movie played. He wasn't quite sure what to make of her reactions. Kyoko often became emotional when viewing extreme content, her tender heart (that same heart she thought so securely locked away) easily touched by what was happening on the screen. Not this time, however. Her expression as she watched was intent rather than emotion-filled. Ren expected her to tear up during the flashback when The Woman's young wartime lover was killed; instead Kyoko narrowed her eyes and gave a small nod, as if recognizing the scene.

Rather nonplussed by her atypical reactions, Ren remained silent even as the credits rolled, turning slightly so he could watch Kyoko. Her eyes remained steady on the screen until the movie's final image was replaced by the logo of the streaming service. Only then did she stir. Kyoko stood up, walked to his side of the couch, and knelt in front of him, head bowed.

_This is it,_ thought Ren fatalistically, although he had no idea what _it _was or why he so dreaded what she was about to say.

"Tsuruga-san, I have been asked to play The Woman in a remake of this movie. I am having trouble coming to grips with some of what I will be required to do for my part. I would be very honored if you would help me overcome the block that is currently crippling my ability to give this role everything it deserves."

* * *

Kyoko watched him through her bangs as she spoke. He stared back at her with blank eyes, his expression unreadable. Yet Kyoko could feel tendrils of an unknown emotion emanating from him, wrapping around her. It wasn't quite the same dark aura he gave off when he was angry, yet it was similar enough to make Kyoko wish that she made her request from the other side of the room instead of at his feet.

After a very long pause, he reached for her. Kyoko managed not to flinch, but all Tsuruga-san did at first was take her hand. Leaning forward, he flipped it palm-side up and then, to her unutterable shock, raised it to his mouth. He didn't kiss the skin, however. Instead, he curved her fingers around his cheek, covering her hand with his larger one when she reflectively tried to jerk away.

When he spoke, it was somehow worse than a kiss because she could feel his lips move against her skin and his breath puff into her palm. "If you need me to teach you about sex for your new role, _Kyoko-chan, _don't you think you should call me 'Ren'?"


	4. Chapter 4

_Mon Amour_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Skip Beat! or Hiroshima Mon Amour_

_

* * *

_

_Chapter 4_

One of his first thoughts was that she had to see him as a man in order to ask such a thing of him.

One of his second thoughts was that, from the way she phrased her request, _any_ man would do.

There were third and fourth and a few more levels of thoughts following, incoherent and jumbled and far too furious to organize. Ren was both so angry and yet so turned on it was a wonder he didn't explode on the spot. The woman he loved kneeling at his feet asking to be initiated into the ways of carnal pleasure…

…for a stupid _movie role_. Not because she was interested in _him._

When he touched her, he honestly didn't know if he wanted her to run screaming from his presence or to melt into his arms.

One thing Tsugura Ren was sure of, however; one way or another, he was going to burn in hell for this.

Of course, he had pretty much resigned himself to the whole _burning in hell_ thing the first time he realized his feelings of admiration for a sixteen-year-old schoolgirl were warmer than they decently should be. So certain was he of that fate, he had been taken aback at Bo's prosaic observation that, as the girl in question was of marriageable age, it wasn't something most people would find all that scandalous.

Ren wasn't sure what it said about his psyche that he expected censure and condemnation from a giant costumed chicken, and then was disappointed when he didn't receive it. It was another case of his upbringing in the United States colliding with the societal norms of his adopted homeland. Hard to believe that fourteen-year-old hellraiser Hizuri Kuon somehow morphed into Tsuruga Ren, (almost) twenty-two-year-old sexless prude.

Not that his thoughts when it came to Kyoko were in any way _prudish. _Now that the schoolgirl was eighteen, no longer in school, and asking to be tutored in sex, most hentai manga circles would reject the images provided by his inner eye as too over the top.

…was there a tenth circle of hell? The first nine were surely too gentle for him.

For a moment, though (not even that long, thirty seconds tops), Ren thought he wouldn't have to consider anything beyond this one fleeting instance in time. Kyoko yielded to his touch, eyes half closing, mouth parted —

—before she yelped and vanished, reappearing across the room backed into the corner with her hands splayed along the walls for support, eyes bugged out and mouth agape. "Wha — wha — _what is with that freaky aura!"_

_Run screaming, then. _Grimacing, Ren sank back into the sofa, resisting the urge to groan in frustration. At least Kyoko hadn't uttered her notorious banshee shriek. He had been trying to get her somewhat conditioned to casual touches from him. It wasn't that they cuddled in any way while watching television after meals (in fact, he was very, very careful about touching her because he didn't want to frighten her), but he had given her mostly-platonic one-armed sideways hugs in the past when she'd been upset, the sort human relations departments grudgingly accepted because it was hard to generate sexual harassment charges from them. It had been a while since contact initiated by him resulted in her scampering across the room, let alone trying to claw her way out through his wall.

_That_ wasn't a blow to his self-esteem or anything.

Sighing, Ren stood up. He went into the kitchen, retrieved the script, and walked back into the living room. Sitting cross-legged at the low table in front of his sofa, he pointed to the table's opposite end.

"Sit," he said.

Kyoko slithered down the wall as if boneless before scurrying like a crab to the indicated spot. Once there her ryokan training asserted itself. Her back went ramrod straight as her hands folded precisely into her lap.

"Don't move," Ren told her, knowing she would probably take him literally.

And he started reading.

* * *

There wasn't a sound from either person for the next hour. Tsugura-san turned the pages of the script at a steady pace. Kyoko knelt opposite him, sitting primly and unnaturally still as she watched. His smooth expression didn't change, apart from an occasional faint purse of the lips. Kyoko couldn't get a reading on his emotions; his face was blank again, although not the _I'm so angry I'm barely restraining_ _myself_ blank she was used to. It was closer to the expression he wore when he first flipped open the script and saw the name of the film.

When he finally finished, Tsugura-san gently closed the script and laid it carefully on the low table that sat between them. He studied her thoughtfully. "Kyoko," he started.

She didn't even notice the use of her given name. One moment Kyoko was sitting calmly, the next she was on the floor stretched out in a bow, her nose against the carpet. "_I'm so sorry you must think I'm a horrible person for even thinking about doing such things with strangers! I'll go away and never mention it again but you have to learn to cook healthy meals for yourself _—_!"_

Tsuruga-san covered his face with one long fingered hand and sighed before dropping it to give her a grim stare. "_Kyoko_," he said again, more firmly (and this time she noticed, jerking upright and sitting back on her heels in bewilderment), "I'm not angry. I wish you had never seen this script or been offered this role, but there's nothing I can do about that. Who is your costar?" he asked, prepared to hate whoever it was.

Kyoko told him.

If Yashiro were present, he would have warned his client that his professional face slipped, although not in the usual way. The look that crossed Ren's countenance was of unabashed astonishment. Again clapping a hand over his face, he grumbled something under his breath in English.

Kyoko spoke English, but it was the precise English taught in Japanese middle schools. The only idioms she knew were those that were already used in everyday conversational Japanese. _He has to bring his A-game? What type of game is an A game? Is it a video game? Why does Tsuruga-san need a video game after I asked him to have s … have s-s-s-ee … to do that thing that a man and a woman do in the dark with the covers pulled up to their necks?_

He bluntly told her, "If you do this, you'll become far more famous than I am."

Even more flustered than at the thought of doing _that thing_, Kyoko immediately began fluttering her hands in protest. "Oh, no, that's not possible, I could never…"

"Kyoko," Tsuruga-san cut across her denials firmly, "I'm only famous here, in Japan. Someday I may be an international star, but I'll need to go back to the United States and start over at the bottom before that happens. While _this_," he held up the script, "may not make you a household name, far more industry people will know about _you_ than know about _me_." He hated what he was going to tell her, he hated even thinking it, but he'd hate himself more if he didn't say it. "You have to take this part. I don't want you to because I'm a selfish man and I don't want to share you, but it will make your career."

"I know it will be the most important role of my career so far, if I do it," said Kyoko (and she _did_ know, not only because she had been told so by both Kanae and now Tsuruga-san, but because she was capable of making her own independent evaluation and had reached the same conclusion herself). "I can't – I don't understand her, though. She's with three different men, but she's not happy. Why would she put herself through that? I didn't like it when Sho kissed me, I _hated_ it when Reino –" and she shuddered, cutting herself off. Kyoko raised her gaze to his, eyes limpid and guileless. "I don't understand," she said again. "I thought doing _that_ with someone would help me understand."

Ren regarded her, his gaze a mixture of frustration and something rather stronger than affection. Although Kyoko's world was insular, it was not because she was a selfish person. Indeed, her daily outlook revolved around how other people felt. And although sex was certainly about sharing (again he ruthlessly repressed the multitude of images that flooded his mind), for _this _role Kyoko needed to know what being _selfish_ felt like. One had to be able to receive pleasure before knowing how to give it.

Could there be an eleven circle of hell? Perhaps hell had a basement? Because the combined thoughts of _sex _and _Kyoko giving pleasure _threatened to short circuit what little control Ren had left.

For what he was going to say next, Ren thought he should bypass hell entirely and just hop a freight elevator straight to the earth's core. "If you truly feel that there are elements in this role you need to experience rather than imagine, Kyoko-chan, I will be honored to help you hone this character."

Kyoko's eyes went impossibly wide.

"_But_," he added sternly, "I refuse to participate if the only way you can stand to be with me is to imagine you're someone else. To try to get into someone else's skin, you first have to be comfortable in your own skin."

"I can't do that to you," gasped Kyoko, horrified. Ren flinched, a pained flicker crossing his face, and Kyoko realized he misunderstood. Flustered, she again held her hands out, waving them in negation. "No, no, I mean – you're good looking, you're the number one celebrity in Japan, you shouldn't have to be with someone plain like _me, _it's better if it's someone else—"

"Mogami Kyoko, I am very attracted to you and I would love to make love with you. Only with you, though, not any of your characters. Say _yes_, Kyoko-chan."

She opened her mouth to tell him she couldn't possibly be _herself_, she was a girl with no sex appeal and no one could possibly want _her. "_Yes," Kyoko whispered.

The next sound out of her mouth was a startled "_Aiyyyy!"_

Ren grinned ruefully.


	5. Chapter 5

_Mon Amour_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Skip Beat! or Hiroshima Mon Amour_

_

* * *

_

_Chapter 4_

She looked horrified, hands pressed to her cheeks. Her wide, disbelieving eyes reminded him of her expression when he'd kissed her on the cheek after she made the geleé au vine for him on Valentine's Day.

This time, however, Ren wasn't going to let her think it meant nothing and that she was overreacting. Because it meant _everything_ and she _wasn't _overreacting.

He knelt next to her, taking her hands in his. Her fingers were like ice and began to visibly shake as soon as he touched her. He wrapped his arms around her (_not_ the one-armed hug countenanced by human resources departments), tugged her to his chest, and sat back on the floor with her curled up between his knees. She clenched her fingers into his shirt, to warm them up or hide the shaking or both. Resting his forehead against the crown of her head, Ren inhaled slowly, breathing in her scent.

It was all rather sweet.

Of course, since this was Kyoko, there was no way it could last. "Should I take my clothes off now?" Her voice wasn't any steadier than her fingers.

"No."

"Should I take yours off?"

"No."

"It shouldn't take too long, right?"

Ren almost said _no _again out of reflex. Catching himself, he instead asked, "What?"

"I have to be at LME at seven for a LoveMe task that starts early. It's after midnight already." She fidgeted a little. "I need to get some sleep, so if we can do – whatever comes next…?"

It was ironic that Kyoko, the one who rejected love, had an impractical and romantic outlook on life, while Ren, who fully acknowledged that love had made him do some pretty foolish things over the past year, was ruthlessly pragmatic in his outlook. The mention of _LoveMe_ was a reminder of the outside world, and the outside world would have to be dealt with. Tucking that into the back of his mind, Ren tried to sooth what he assumed were maidenly nerves. "There's nothing wrong with after midnight, as long as you aren't a pumpkin," he teased lightly. "And no, Kyoko, you are NOT a pumpkin. LME, eh?" His tone became thoughtful. "We should arrange to meet there sometime tomorrow so we can be seen together in public."

"You want to do this in public?" yipped Kyoko. There was a pause as Ren slowly processed the multitude of meanings _this_ might have in Kyoko-speak. Her next words were thoughtful. "Well, I suppose it's one way of getting used to cameras being around—"

Ren wondered how it was possible to want to strangle the woman he was in love with on the same night she'd agreed to a sort-of relationship with him. "You need to stop thinking about what's good for you character and consider what's good for you." He raised his face enough to rest his chin on the top of her head, staring sightlessly into an imaginary distance. When he spoke, his words were wistful. "Do you want me, Kyoko-chan, even a little bit? If you don't, say so and we'll stop this now."

* * *

Kyoko was confused. He was Tsuruga Ren, the number one celebrity in Japan. Who wouldn't want him? She told him as much.

She felt his breath ruffle her hair as he exhaled a little strongly, not quite a sigh. Even though the angle was all wrong he must have somehow also puffed on her neck, because a strange little electric tingle shivered across the skin of her nape. "Right now I'm just a man holding the woman he … wants to be with. I could use a little reassurance."

Kyoko was still confused. Was he asking if he was attractive? Of course he was; _attractive_ was part of what made him Tsuruga Ren. All females found his striking good looks appealing. Just because she was dead to love didn't mean she didn't recognize his … physical attributes. She couldn't bring herself to actually say anything like that, not unless she put on one of her masks (_Natsu _came to mind for being aggressive about what she wanted, but _Natsu_ wouldn't have any sympathy for Tsuruga-san's curious vulnerability). So Kyoko nodded wordlessly against his chest, and he seemed to accept that as a positive answer because his arms tightened around her, just a little.

"I suppose we don't have to get undressed," mused Kyoko after a moment, still trying to work out the logistics in her head. In her mind, she was looking at a green chalkboard that had white line outlines of a Ren-doll and a Kyoko-doll, arrows blinking on and off as she considered then rejected access points and clothing obstacles.

The man holding her actually did sigh at that. "I'm _tired_, Kyoko. And it's been rather a strange night. I don't think I can perform right now."

Unseen against his chest, Kyoko's eyes opened, then narrowed. 'You said no performances," she pointed out, half-accusatory.

He chuckled, although it sounded strained. "I didn't mean _acting_ perform."

"Oh." She tried to sound worldly and understanding, although she didn't understand at all.

Tsuruga-san made a slight sound that might have been amusement or might have been exasperation or might have been a newly-invented noise that compromised both amusement and exasperation. "First of all, I've already refused to have sex with you as an acting exercise. I'm not changing my mind about that. Second of all, you're operating from a number of false premises." He was using the _sempai_ voice. Kyoko automatically responded as a good kohai and listened respectfully. "Sex is … sex can be thrilling, boring, perfunctory, something to do to pass the time, something to become closer to someone you care about. I suppose it can even be like it is in fairy tales, all sighs and gentle embraces before fading to black without all the grunting and sweating and weird noises your body makes." His frankness made Kyoko blush. In the chalkboard in her head, a couple of notes with question marks were added to the doll diagrams. "Your character experiences much of that, romantic with her lover during the war, perfunctory with her husband, thrilling but empty with this man she has the affair with." There was a tensing of his muscles as he spoke the next words, his tone somber. "Sex can also be dangerous and physically painful. I don't want you to go looking for this experience with someone who doesn't at least respect you."

Nothing he said dovetailed with her own romantic views. It wasn't that she didn't know the mechanics, she'd paid close attention during health class, but the way Tsuruga-san described sex was cold and disheartening. "It doesn't sound like much fun," she finally said.

"Well, it can be that, too," he said, amusement replacing the seriousness in his voice. "What it doesn't have to be is tonight — check that, this morning."

Kyoko pulled her head up, trying to peer at his face in the darkness. "But if we get this over with, we can forget it happened," she protested.

He went from gently holding her to clenching her tightly. She probably should have been alarmed, but she was so overwhelmed by the dark aura that being locked to his body by bands of steel was easily overlooked. "Do you find me so easy to forget, then, Mogami-san?" he asked in his smoothest, most gentleman-like voice.

Somehow, the reversion to _Mogami-san_ was more of a shock than when he first called her _Kyoko-chan. _Kyoko clenched her eyes closed, convinced that she would see the black flames of his intense aura licking along the arms surrounding her if she looked. The only reason she didn't cower in terror was because cowering-in-terror was impossible given the wrestling hold he had on her. Her grudges, the same ones that ignored the weird aura he gave off earlier, leapt to collective attention as if they had been jarred from a sound sleep. So heavy was the atmosphere it was almost impossible to physically move her head in a negative shake. "No," she mumbled against his chest, "but everything's so strange now. I don't want things to change between us. When I came here tonight, I thought, since it's just the once with the main man in the movie, I'd just do this once and get it over with. We can still do it like that," she added, half-hopefully.

"_Ouch,"_ he muttered, and the sensation of something demonic winked out. Afraid she was sitting on his foot or something, Kyoko tried to shift away. Although he loosened his grip, Ren refused to let go of her. The abrupt removal of tension irritated her grudges. Grumbling at the false alarm, they settled back into slumber.

"But I understand you think it needs to be more often than once so I can be convincing," Kyoko added after a moment.

Tsuruga-san sighed _again._ He was doing that a lot tonight. "What I think is that we'll have to discuss what you _do_ and _don't_ understand later, Kyoko-chan. As far as how we act around each other, nothing is going to change that much. I'll still pick you up from your shoots, you'll still nag me about eating. I'll help you with your role, but I meant it when I said I won't be with anyone other than _you_. And _you_ said _yes._ What that means, Kyoko, is that we're in a relationship. I refuse to do this clandestinely, hiding behind closed doors as if we're ashamed."

_It's better if people know, _he was saying, and because his arms were around her in a loose embrace and she could feel the shiver of his heart beating against her cheek and her mind was completely short circuited from all that had happened in the past couple of hours, she nodded her head in what appeared to be agreement. _The sky's a nice shade of green today_ or _Tokyo needs more cows _would have had the same response from her at that moment.

"I should take you home," he murmured after a long while of just holding her quietly, although he didn't let go of her right away.

"I can stay," Kyoko said hopefully. In books and movies, men never turned away women who ambushed them in bed. She could pretend to go to the guest room, wait for him to fall asleep, sneak into his room, and—

"No, you're going home _now_," said Tsuruga-san firmly, as if he heard her thoughts and was answering them. "I'll have Yashiro-san contact you in the morning about our schedule." He let her go, leaning backwards to look down at her. Reaching out, he cupped her cheek gently. "Tomorrow's going to be hectic. You'll need to be well-rested."


	6. Chapter 6

_Mon Amour_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Skip Beat! or Hiroshima Mon Amour_

* * *

_Chapter 6_

**LME Building, LoveMe Locker Room  
0755 **

Gathering together the rolled promotional Bridge Rock posters they were tasked with putting up,"You look tired," commented Kanae, eying her fellow LoveMe member critically. Not that the evil pink jumpsuit ever looked _good_ on anyone, but Kyoko's unusually pale visage appeared even more washed out next to the vivid color.

Kyoko stifled a yawn behind one delicate hand before picking up a tool box that included the various glues and pastes they would be using for this morning's job, as well as flat-edged spatulas for peeling off older posters. "I _am_ tired. I didn't get back to the Darumaya until three, then I was so wound up I couldn't do more than nap." She grimaced lightly.

Kanae looked at her friend quizzically. "Were you on a shoot? I thought your evenings were clear until Friday."

"I was researching the new part," Kyoko said. Startled, Kanae nearly dropped the armful of posters she was trying to organize. As far as she knew, there was only _one_ new part Kyoko was considering, and only one sort of 'research' for that part that could necessitate returning home in the wee hours. "I read the script yesterday afternoon," Kyoko continued, oblivious to her friend's alarm. "You're right; it's too good to let go. Then I went over to Tsuruga-san's place last night—"

"EH?"

"—for some help with the role, but he—"

Kanae froze in place, arms tightening around the posters as she remembered her friend shouting _why would it be okay if its him._ Her blood ran cold. The posters flew into the air as she grabbed Kyoko in an awkward embrace. Considerably startled, Kyoko assumed Kanae had somehow managed to trip. Her arms waved frantically as she tried both to catch the posters and steady her friend. The two crashed into the wall, crushed posters raining around them and limbs tangled together in such a way that any male clerk peeking into the LoveMe locker room to see what all the noise was about would have probably experienced an immediate and terminal nose bleed.

Kanae planted one hand on the wall and pushed back slightly, staring down into the wide-eyed face of the shorter girl. "Are you all right?" she asked tenderly (although _tenderly_ for Kanae meant an extra-deep scowl and multiple angry veins popping all over her face).

Nonplussed at the attention, not to mention the _touching_ from her usually hug-phobic best friend, Kyoko countered with, "Are _you_?"

Kanae raised one hand to stroke Kyoko's hair in a comforting manner, although since it wasn't something she was used to doing it was more like the hard pats given to a big, overly-friendly dog. "Did he hurt you?'

"No, Tsuruga-san was very kind," (_I bet he was,_ thought Kanae viciously) "although it got a little weird for a while." She flinched back against the wall involuntarily as sudden dark flames limed Kanae's figure. "I'm supposed to call him 'Ren' now," she offered as a way of diffusing Kanae's fury.

Caught up in the previous statement, Kanae didn't hear her. _"Weird how?"_ she snarled. "Does he kiss and bite at the same time? Did he make you wear strange things? Did he make you _do_ strange things?"

Kyoko stared at her, goggle-eyed. She protested the only part of Kanae's diatribe that made any sense to her. "He didn't kiss me!"

If anything, the dangerous aura encasing Kanae flared to greater heights, obscuring her features. Only her eyes could be seen clearly, blazing white as they pierced through the inky black flame. "He did _that_ without kissing you? _I'll kill him_."

Finally Kyoko caught the barest glimmer of what might possibly perhaps be fueling Kanae's anger. She put out her hands, or tried to, but as Kanae was still pinning her to the wall her attempt to wave away Kanae's anger was ineffectual. "No, no, he didn't do _that_ either! He just held me while we sat on the floor and we talked! That's all!"

"_Mou!_" huffed out Kanae. Righteous indignation was difficult to maintain when the person you were trying to support was irritating the _heck _out of you with her obtuseness. The flickering spiritual fire snuffed out as she stepped away. Kanae folded her arms across her chest and frowned. "Instead of telling me what he _didn't_ do, tell me what he _did_ do."

**Hotel Okura, Conference Room  
0805 **

As he entered the elevator in the hotel's lobby, Yashiro Yukihito finally had the barest moment to pause and take in a steadying breath. The early morning phone call from his normally-predicable charge sent him on a mad scramble across town to this high-class business hotel. Obviously whatever it was that Ren urgently needed to discuss was too sensitive in nature to trust to the sometimes-porous walls at LME.

For a manager of a top level talent, meeting clandestinely away from the agency only meant one thing. Yashiro reminded himself his job didn't involve passing judgment and it certainly didn't involve bopping the thick-skulled Number One Actor in Japan over the head for probably ruining his chances with a certain equally-clueless LoveMe founding member. As the elevator dinged open, Yashiro released the breath he'd been holding, adjusted his glasses, smoothed down imaginary wrinkles on his suit jacket, and stepped into the hallway with a polite, professional smile firmly in place. Rapping one knuckle against the conference room door, he pushed it open with a friendly, "Good morning, Ren."

"Good morning," returned the actor. Standing at the far end of the office, Ren was gazing out the window (although Yashiro wasn't sure it should be called a _window_ when it took up an entire wall). Yashiro regarded his charge's reflected visage. Ren's expression was perfectly blank, giving nothing away. "The coffee service has been here."

Yashiro glanced at the sidebar, where a Western-style repast had been set out. Setting his briefcase down on the wide conference table that took up much of the room, he poured a cup of coffee for himself, figuring he would need it. Leaning against the bar, he held the coffee cup in both hands, waiting for his charge to explain what needed to be neutralized.

As Ren turned away from the window, Yashiro nearly dropped the cup. When not seen via reflection, Ren's famous face was nearly haggard. Dark smudges marred the area around his eyes, while his complexion appeared waxy from exhaustion. "Thanks for coming out this early, and on such short notice."

Yashiro took another deep breath and decided to address the problem head-on. "It's the manager's job to deal with scandals, Ren."

A brief, startled expression crossed Ren's face before the other man chuckled. "I suppose it is... I _do_ anticipate a surge of media attention by the end of today, so it's good you're prepared to handle that." Then he uttered a few words that filled Yashiro with horror. "How would you like a new job? It entails some risk. It would also require that you leave LME."

Whatever unspeakable thing had happened last night, it required a scapegoat _and_ a public resignation? "Ren, what have you done? It isn't something that will ruin your chances with Kyoko-chan, is it?"

Ren's expression turned rueful. "I wonder... " The actor sat down at the head of the conference table. Propping his elbows on the table, he wove his fingers together as a resting place for his chin. "You've probably been curious as to why I've asked you to cut back on my bookings these last few months."

In truth, Yashiro thought he knew. "To spend more time with Kyoko-chan."

"It's freed up my evenings for her, yes, but that wasn't the original intent. I'm sure you've realized that I am not originally from Japan."

The seeming non-sequitur made Yashiro blink. Moving in slow motion, Yashiro also seated himself at the table. He cupped his hands around the coffee cup just to have something to do with them. "Well, I can tell you've spent some time overseas," he uttered cautiously.

Ren shook his head. "No, I'm _from_ 'overseas.' I was born in the United States. And I'm about to turn twenty-two."

"Oh." And _oh_ about covered it. Yashiro immediately saw all the implications, and the inevitable outcome for an actor with international aspirations. Taking a deep breath, Yashiro squared his shoulders, stood up and formally bowed. "It has been a great honor to serve as your manager these past few years, Tsuruga Ren. I wish you great fortune in the United States."

"Ah. About that. It's not my name; at least, not the name on my passport. I'm thinking, though, I may retain it as my stage name. My family," he continued as Yashiro again blinked at him, "is famous in the industry. That's one reason I came to Japan; to make a name on my own, ironically by _creating_ a name of my own." He gazed expectantly at his manager, but Yashiro just stared back blankly. "I'm told I strongly resemble my father. Imagine me with blond hair."

After a pause (and feeling a little ridiculous), Yashiro took off his glasses and narrowed his eyes, trying to concentrate on the shapes and lines that made up Ren's face as he ran through a mental list of famous international actors.

Since the first names that popped into his head were, naturally enough, the small handful of Japanese actors that made the successful transition to the world stage, it didn't take more than a few seconds. The long jawline was identical. "Hizuri Kuu," he said in astonishment.

"Hizuri _Kuon_," Ren corrected.

Although the news was mind-boggling, Yashiro's practical manager's mind immediately veered towards towards _spin _and_ control the message. _"This is about to hit the media?"

Ren shook his head 'no.' "As far as I know, only two people in Japan know my birth name. Perhaps three, if the President also told his manservant. No, what's about to hit the media is something else entirely. Yashiro-san, I suspect that even more than becoming an agent that represents an international talent, what _else_ I'm about to tell you will make your wildest dream come true."

Although the conference room was supposed to be sound-proof, even those outside the building could hear the screamed "WHAAAAAAAT?" that erupted from Yashiro a few seconds later. Some even swore the roof of the hotel raised up several inches before crashing back onto its supporting walls, although that, of course, was impossible.

* * *

_Note (which I put here because I didn't want to tip my hand at the beginning of the chapter): Japan doesn't permit dual citizenship. At 22, anyone holding a dual Japanese-someplace else citizenship must pick one or the other. And, yes, that's important for the next few chapters._


	7. Chapter 7

_Mon Amour_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Skip Beat! or Hiroshima Mon Amour_

_

* * *

_

_**Chapter 7**_

**LME Building, Talent Division**

**1035 **

Yashiro was looking especially crisp and efficient when he strode into the LME offices. He was wearing the most expensive power suit in his arsenal. He was carrying the most official-looking briefcase he owned (it was empty because it wasn't his regular one that held all his working papers, but that wasn't the point). His shoes and glasses were both polished brightly.

He _had_ to look his most crisp and efficient. Today was his first day as an _agent_ to not one but two international talents.

No one he passed in the lobby would have guessed his inner fangirl was in full _moe_ mode, screaming to trip down the halls of LME throwing flower petals and trilling love ballads at the top of his lungs even though ballads were meant to be sung softly.

It was a good thing he had such iron control. Yashiro's singing voice was nails-on-a-chalkboard terrible.

Ren apparently knew the words _Kyoko and I are together now_ would make his former manager starry-eyed and sappy. He'd warned his new agent about being too gleeful during negotiations with LME. So Yashiro made sure his inner fangirl was firmly under control before he entered the hectic offices of LME's talent division by pasting on a bright, professional smile.

Several office clerks would shortly report to the company health clinic complaining of near blindness, headaches and peculiar teeth-shaped after-images. All swore there was an inexplicable flash of platinum-white light in the talent division's offices. One even compared it to the initial stage of an atomic bomb detonation.

Yashiro was blissfully unaware of his surroundings. His entire focus narrowed to a single desk, behind which sat one Sawara Takenori, equally unaware that his world was about to careen off its axis. Looking up from his never-ending paperwork, Sawara peered at Yashiro through his reading glasses. "Yes? Something I can do for you, Yashiro-san?"

"I'm here on behalf of my clients, Tsuruga Ren and Kyoko."

Sawara blinked, nonplussed. "Kyoko? I wasn't aware that you had been assigned to manage her as well. Isn't that too much for you?"

Yashiro smiled a brilliant smile. Starbursts reflected off his pearly white teeth. Several employees who had survived the initial critical mass of his entrance succumbed.

Under the power of that smile, Sawara cringed. He didn't know why he cringed; he just did.

"Not at all," Yashiro answered brightly. "I'm here to offer my own resignation, and to negotiate the release of my clients from this agency."

Sawara's jaw dropped. So did the jaws of every other employee in the office (at least, those who weren't writhing on the ground screaming _my eyes! my eyes! _in the background). Stammering, the Talent Division head fell back on a typical stalling tactic. "I'm sorry, I'm really not authorized to—"

Impossibly, the wattage on Yashiro's smile increased in magnitude and intensity. "With the President currently out of the country, this is _exactly _what you, as the head of the Talent Division, are authorized to deal with," he countered. "I'm sure you already know Tsuruga-san's current contract expires in fifteen days? Also that Kyoko-san, like the other LoveMe members, is employed month-to-month?" Although phrased as questions, when uttered in Yashiro's confident, cheerful, authoritative tone, the statements possessed the weight of fact. "Neither of my clients wishes to continue with LME as their exclusive representatives, although provisions can be made for the agency to act as a contact for their Japanese business interests. We can discuss this further at a later date."

"Yashiro-san, I'm not entirely sure what is going on, but this is far outside the scope of my–"

"Or," continued Yashiro blithely, "we can shake hands and go our separate ways. I'll be happy to arrange other in-country representation for them. I'm sure the President won't be _very_ upset upon returning from his vacation to discover two of his top-ten talents have signed with another agency." Smiling brilliantly, Yashiro sketched a shallow bow in Sawara's direction. "Please let me know your decision by the end of today. If I don't hear from you, I'll know you have no objection to my opening negotiations with other agencies." Pivoting with military precision, Yashiro marched (although inside he was skipping, not marching) out of the office.

Sawara-san boggled. Actually, he and everyone in the office had been in full boggle-mode for at least five minutes. Japanese stars didn't have agents and didn't make outrageous demands (let alone issue veiled threats). This was far larger than anything he expected to handle in the President's absence.

Despite his position in the company, it really _wasn't a_ decision he could make by himself. Sawara reached for the phone.

**LME Building, Random Hallway**

**1115**

Kanae was impressed with the overall quality of the poster print job. In spite of being crushed in her mad dash to comfort her friend, when forcefully squeegeed against a wall several of the Bridge Rock posters were salvageable. Not all of them were, however; taking the unsalvageable ones to the Print Media Division, Kyoko bowed repeatedly as she abjectly apologized for her mishandling of company material.

The Print Media Division manager glared at Kanae over Kyoko's bowed head. Kanae scowled back. It was an occupational hazard of working with Kyoko in LoveMe. Kyoko was acknowledged as weird but sweet_;_ Kanae was generally considered to be the scary one. Even though ninety-nine point nine percent of the time when something went wrong with LoveMe work it was Kyoko's fault, Kanae invariably took the fall. It said something for her affection for LoveMe's founding member that Kanae _allowed_ herself to take the blame.

Of course, this time it happened to be _true_. That was beside the point.

As they spent the morning taking down old posters and putting up the new ones advertising the Bridge Rock special, Kanae had managed to get more details about the previous night out of Kyoko. It left her unsettled. There wasn't any getting around it. For a man to refuse to have sex with a woman he was obviously attracted to unless all false pretenses were abandoned meant the forbidden "L" word was involved, at least on his part.

Previously, Kanae thought better of Tsuruga Ren's professionalism and less of him personally. He was, after all, a threat to her near-monopoly of Kyoko. Kanae had never been good at sharing anything, whether it was toys as a child or the spotlight as an actress, and certainly not her one-and-only best friend. The fact her greatest competition for Kyoko's attention forced her to admire his restraint made her very angry.

It was hard to ignore either the black waves of despair wafting from Kanae's aura or the pulsing cross-shaped vein that popped against Kanae's temple. Pausing in mid-squeegee, Kyoko stared at her best friend in concern. "Moko-san, are you all right?" she artlessly asked.

"_Why wouldn't I be all right?"_ snarled Kanae, further irritated that her inner diatribe against the threat Tsuruga Ren presented was interrupted.

Kyoko dropped the squeegee.

It was an overreaction, although not to those who knew her well. As Kyoko went into a strange series of shudders that looked like some sort of fit, however, Kanae realized it wasn't a reaction at all. Amusement filtered through her annoyance. "That thing does have a lower setting, you know."

Struggling against the current that caused her body to shake uncontrollably, Kyoko finally managed to reach into one pocket and flip open her cell phone. "I'm always afraid I won't feel it at the lower setting," she said apologetically as her eyes scanned over her incoming text message.

"It's against your hip, Kyoko. How can you not feel it?" asked Kanae, although her question had the flat rhetorical cadence of something asked many times before. Watching the play of emotions across her friend's face, Kanae was pretty sure she already knew the answer to her next question. "What's it about?"

"It's from Tsuruga-s – it's from _Ren_. He's in the lobby. He wants to meet for an early lunch."

Kanae huffed. "It won't do to keep him waiting, I suppose."

"But we have so much more work to do, it wouldn't be right –!"

Kanae scoffed. "There's exactly one more hall, and I can finish it faster if you aren't underfoot fretting about making _Ren _wait." Looking at the abstracted expression on Kyoko's face as she stared at the text message on the screen, Kanae blew out a frustrated puff of air. Reaching out, she snagged Kyoko's elbow and began to walk, dragging the startled young woman behind her as she stomped towards the elevator. "Mou! You'll just dither about for the next half hour if I don't deliver you personally!"

Because Kyoko was positioned with her back to the elevator door as she pleaded with Kanae to be permitted to finish her LoveMe work (_won't it be too much for you? Won't you be too tired for your audition this afternoon?)_ she didn't notice when the sliding doors opened. Kanae gave her an irritated little shove, not enough to knock Kyoko down but enough for her to stagger backwards with arms windmilling. Over the other woman's shoulder Kanae spied the two men waiting. The actor's face lit up, not in the sparkly way that made most women swoon. It was far more subtle (and far more _real_) than that. By the time Kyoko regained her balance and spun around to bow in greeting to her senpai, Tsuruga's polite, professional mask was back in place.

Stepping back into the elevator, Kanae gritted her teeth as she viciously stabbed the button that closed the doors. Yes, it was the _L_ word all right, at least as far as _he_ was concerned. Her friendship with Kyoko forced her (often reluctantly) to acquire many new skills. Learning to share would be one more novel (or _galling_, depending on one's viewpoint) experience.

* * *

**LME Building, Lobby**

**1230 **

Lunch wasn't as awkward as it could have been. As the three of them had eaten together at L.A. Hearts many times before, the familiarity of the situation kept Kyoko from being self-conscious (and Ren kept her from _becoming_ self-conscious by kicking Yashiro in the ankle every time the other man threatened to slip into _moe_ mode). The meal passed as other meals had, with discussions of LoveMe tasks and upcoming roles (although not _that _upcoming role), and it ended as it usually did, with Kyoko trying to pay for her meal and Yashiro insisting there wasn't any need since it counted as a business expense and therefore went on the company tab. She was still (as usual) trying to insist as the two men walked her towards the elevator when something happened that completely disrupted the usual routine.

Tsuruga Ren stopped in the middle of the lobby and kissed Mogami Kyoko.

As it was a brief press of lips to cheek, most Westerners (and a fair number of Japanese) wouldn't even consider it a kiss. A _peck_ would be the most likely description. However, in the crowded noontime lobby of Japan's largest entertainment agency, it was as if a bomb went off, one that left stark silence rather than chaos in its wake.

Which made Kyoko's startled shriek all the more loud and piercing. She flapped her arms in distress, her tone shrill and accusatory. "You said you didn't do that around Japanese people!"

"I did, didn't I?" Ren said mildly as he straightened to his full height. "I'm sorry, Kyoko-chan; you looked so cute it slipped my mind." As Kyoko stared at him gape-mouthed (an accurate description of _everyone_ currently in the lobby), he continued, "You're coming over to cook for me tonight, right?"

"Yes, yes," gasped Kyoko, waving her hands as if conjuring a magic spell to make the situation disappear. Unnerved by all the gazes on her, she just wanted out of the lobby.

"Will you be there at the usual time?" persisted Ren

"Yes, already!" Completely forgetting that she had been in mid-discussion with Yashiro, Kyoko hurriedly and repeatedly bowed to both men as she somehow simultaneously moved at lightning speed away from them towards the stairwell. The door slammed loudly after her escape.

"That should do it," murmured Ren. He turned on his most sparkly smile, which was the cue for half the women in the immediate vicinity to swoon and for everyone else to murmur in low, startled tones _Did you _see_ that?_

"You're being so aggressive!" trilled Yashiro. Little hearts were in his eyes; his hands were folded delicately together next to his cheek.

Ren winced. His new agent really did 13-year-old fangirl with alarming accuracy. _I have to be aggressive. I'm afraid she's going to grab some random guy for research purposes. Plus it's close to Valentine's Day. Fuwa and Reino both got to her last year; this year she might do something dangerous if I don't have her firmly tied down to me first. I suppose that means it's not_ aggression _but_ fear— "I thought you wanted me to be more aggressive when it came to her," was what he said.

Yashiro's phone buzzed. Before it had the chance to buzz a second time, Yashiro had reached into his pocket, pulled on a latex glove, and flipped it open. He pursed his lips slightly as he read what was on the screen. "Two of the president's proxies have requested an emergency meeting for this afternoon." He looked at his client somberly. "You're sure about this? We won't be able to go back."

"I'm sure," said Ren.


	8. Chapter 8

_Mon Amour_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Skip Beat! or Hiroshima Mon Amour_

A/N 1: Sadly, the Skip Beat! Lexicon is no more. I relied on it for place names and for looking up obscure characters. Le discontented sigh.

A/N 2: If you're wondering about the times, Japan uses a 24-hour clock.

* * *

_Chapter 8_

**TBM Studios, Japonet Scoop Production Meeting  
****1400**

The producer of Japan's number one entertainment news show couldn't believe his eyes. His assistant had burst into the meeting before it even started, slamming her laptop down on the table between the producer and the two presenters, gasping about _something BIG_ that just happened in the LME offices. And what he was seeing on email attachment after email attachment seemed to bear her out.

She was probably going to want a raise.

Even though it was the LME lobby and those that worked there were inured to celebrity comings and goings, when Tsuruga Ren kissed a young woman dressed in blinding pink coveralls several people in the vicinity, recognizing a news-worthy event, possessed the presence of mind to whip out their cell phones and take pictures.

(Oddly, from the angle of the email attachment he was currently looking at, it appeared as if it were taken by a person standing very close to the two, perhaps someone with glasses and sandy hair in full _moe_ mode).

"Who is she? Do we know?" he demanded.

"It's _Kyoko_!" gasped the assistant. "Mio? Natsu? Newcomer of the year? Number six on the "Most Popular Women In Entertainment" list? _That_ Kyoko!"

The producer did a double-take. _Two_ celebrities engaging in a Public Display of Affection? Twice the news, then! Actually, given the peculiar mathematics involved when multiple celebrities were involved, shouldn't the newsworthiness be measured exponentially?

"Boss," said one of his presenters, looking at his notes, "the actress we're interviewing during the second segment today has worked with both of them. If we can get her to say something about the two of them together, we'll have a scoop!"

The gods were definitely smiling upon him today. The producer mentally promised a hefty contribution on his next shrine visit, especially if his visions of unheard-of ratings came true. "Get the graphics crew to hype "shocking news about Tsuruga Ren" for the bumpers, and put her in the final segment."

**LME Building, Conference Room  
****1415**

While Sawara-san would rather be anywhere else than sitting in a conference room with the suddenly-demanding Tsuruga Ren and his manager (correction, _agent), _Matsushima-san, head of the Acting Division, was fascinated. Where the President had been appalled at Kyoko-san's inability to forgive her imaginary wayward lover during her initial audition, Matsushima-san had been impressed at the original interpretation. He didn't understand why she had been put in the LoveMe division, or even what the LoveMe division was all about.

He did, however, appreciate good drama, even when one of the major players in the drama was a metal-encased speaker placed on the center of the oval table.

Although the oval table was meant to encourage equality among the participants, the way said participants arranged their chairs defeated its purpose. Tsuruga Ren and Yashiro Yakihito sat practically shoulder-to-shoulder with their chairs pushed closely together, presenting a united front against the two managers and the metal box. Likewise Sawara-san had promptly pulled his chair so he was behind the speaker, as if it provided some protection from Tsuruga-san's suffocating affability.

The weight of Tsuruga-san's defection was so great that, in spite of the time difference, the two department heads deemed it necessary for the President of the agency to be present, even if it had to be done through a hastily-rigged speaker as the President shouted through a bad connection on his cell phone. The first few minutes of the meeting passed in agonizing cordiality as the President inquired after everyone's health. Yashiro-san responded politely (albeit vaguely) on behalf of himself and his client; the department heads were too flabbergasted at the situation to dare mention what it was doing to their stress levels. It was when the President remarked that this was a very unusual situation for a Japanese talent agency that Tsuruga Ren stirred, uttering his first words since the start of the meeting, words that confounded two of the three men present. "I'm _not_ Japanese, President-san," he said with one of his most charming smiles.

Matsushima-san swore he saw the metal box in the center of the table briefly pierced by an arrow. He blinked, and the arrow was gone.

"You've decided, then?" Even over the crackling connection, the President sounded hurt.

"I have. I will finish my current commitments in Japan, but I will not accept any new dramas or movies. It's time to wind down my obligations in this country."

_Zing! _went another arrow into the metal box. "I heard you're taking my LoveMe number one away as well. I cannot approve. She hasn't finished her training in that division yet."

Tsuruga-san glanced sideways at his agent. "It is really not your place to approve or disapprove," said Yashiro-san, politely but firmly. The two division heads stared at him with bugged-out eyes and dropped jaws, unable to comprehend anyone speaking that way to _the _Takarada Lory. "She is not under contract and can leave at any time."

"Furthermore, Kyoko-san is about to become an international name, if not a star," added Tsuruga-san coolly. "The constraints of a local agency will only impede her progress as an actress. Although she may maintain her legal residence in Japan, she'll need a base in another country, one better adapted to handling international celebrities."

Yashiro smoothly took over the conversation, continuing with, "Her new role isn't like a Japanese production, all under agency contract with filming completed in a week. This is going to take several solid months of filming. She's going to be the female lead. Kokyo-san should be compensated for the quality of her work, not just her salaried time."

"This role goes against everything I'm trying to teach my LoveMe girls about the need to be full-rounded human beings," insisted the tinny voice of the President over the metal box's grill.

Although to Matsushima-san this statement didn't appear to be all that different from a number of similar statements the President had uttered in the last fifteen minutes, a twinge of tension crossed Tsuruga Ren's visage. "There's no reason Kyoko can't be an actress _and_ a fully-rounded human being."

Matsushima-san hunched his shoulders slightly against a brief chill, making a mental note to have maintenance check on the air conditioning for this part of the building once the meeting was over.

"I haven't read this script, but I remember the original. I assume it opens the same way, only more so? Because everything done in movies these days is _more-so_."

Ren flinched involuntarily before schooling his expression back into its usual gentlemanly lines. "Nudity is just another costume for an actor, President. Both my parents have taken roles be where they needed to be naked. I hope you aren't suggesting that either of them are lesser human beings because of it?"

There was a moment of silence. The two managers were so startled at this statement that one could almost see the question marks floating over their heads. Yashiro glanced down at the tabletop, his cheeks tinting briefly.

"Speaking of _those people–_" said the President, a sly note in his voice.

"I plan on coming clean about everything," Tsuruga cut across him (and the two department heads boggled again, because _no _one cut off Takarada Lory). "If you think going public about _those people _will force me to comply with what you want for Kyoko and myself, you're wrong. I'll go on Japonet tonight and tell everything if I have to."

Whatever the President may have made of Tsuruga-san's declaration was impossible to discern through the static of the bad connection. When he spoke again, it was clear he had abandoned that tactic for a new one. "This may be an amazing role for her professionally, Ren, but is it right for her personally?"

Tsuruga-san's hands, folded precisely on the table before him, both suddenly clenched closed. His voice was much sharper than anyone in the room had heard before. "Whatever_ I _may think about this personally_, Kyoko_ has already decided to take the role. Having it snatched away from her will undermine her self-confidence, the self-confidence we have all worked hard to help her discover. Do you have any idea the lengths she's willing to go to in the name of research?" The last statement was unexpectedly harsh, filled with dark emotion. Tsuruga-san took in a deep breath in a visible effort to calm down. "Yes, I'm sure this is what is best for her, professionally _and_ personally," he said in his usual calm, cultured tones. "It's the only way I can protect her."

Another moment of stark silence passed.

"Ren," said the President, "it may not sound like it, but I'm very proud of you. It's true that there is very little left I can teach you. You've come a long way. I simply can't agree that this is the right thing for Kyoko."

Tsuruga looked at the metal box as if he saw the man on the other end. His expression softened, just a little. "I am extremely grateful for everything you've done for me. We both knew I had a difficult decision to make at twenty-two; I'm sorry if you thought it was going to be something else. As for Kyoko;" his eyes went blank and cold, and the two men on the other side of the table alternatively shivered and shriveled under the intensity of it; "_nothing_ is more important to me than her well-being. I will not trust that to anyone other than myself."

"I understand, Ren," came the president's voice from the box (which, oddly, appeared to be encased in ice; even the speaker's grill had tiny hanging icicles). "I authorize Matsushima-san and Sawara-san to negotiate terms for your representation with Yashiro-san."

After the President signed off, Matsushima-san stared across the table at Japan's Number One Actor. "You have dual-citizenship," he stated flatly.

Tsuruga-san nodded.

"When are you twenty-two?"

"Fifteen days," said Sawara-san, and "February 10th," said Yashiro-san.

"And you've decided for ..." Matsushima-san tried to analyze Tsuruga-san's speech patterns to determine a country of origin before realizing the brashness of this plan was his best clue "...the United States?"

Tsuruga-san nodded again.

"The President must be beside himself," Matsushima-san mused. "This is the second time he's nurtured a young actor only to lose him to the States."

"He knew this was the probable outcome when he invited me to Japan." Tsuruga Ren smiled the gentlemanly smile he was so famous for. "If I don't make it in the States I may come crawling back."

"Or you could live off of Kyoko-chan's earnings," murmured Yashiro-san with a small smile.

Although it was meant to be a joke, the atmosphere again dropped several degrees. "She's had a man living off of her once," said Tsuruga-san genially. "I won't ever let that happen to her again."

**LME Building, Lobby  
****1630**

It had been a long and exhausting day. Yashiro had expected it would be when he received the early morning call from his client, although there was a difference between the scandal he anticipated and what actually happened. Overall, however, he felt he adapted well to his clients' shifting circumstances, not to mention his own new role as an agent. A deal that made LME Tsuruga Ren's exclusive representative in Japan had been ironed out, with a meeting set in two days to make similar arrangements for Kyoko-chan. Yashiro couldn't help but be pleased with his initial foray as an agent. "When you see Kyoko-chan tonight," he told Ren as the two walked through LME's lobby, "tell her to make sure she calls me tomorrow. She needs to give me the parameters for the next round of negotiations; what's the minimum she's willing to accept, how long does she want the contract for, things like that."

"You're right," mused Ren, "she has no idea what's going on. I'll have to catch her up on everything that's happened."

"Catch her up—wait a minute. Ren, you did all this _without asking her first?"_

Ren looked at him blankly, as if confused why his agent's voice suddenly become sharp and shrill. "There wasn't time."

Yashiro slapped a hand over his face, wondering if it was too late to beg for his old job back.


	9. Chapter 9

_Disclaimer: just because I have characters named Tsuruga and Mogami in the MMRPG I play doesn't mean I own Skip!Beat. Or does it ...?_

* * *

**TBM Studios, Japonet Scoop Live Taping  
1630 (Airtime 2230)**

Amamiya Chiori looked at the image on the presenter's cell-phone, eyebrows slightly elevated before she shrugged. "I don't know why you're surprised. Anyone with eyes and half a brain is aware of those two."

The presenter goggled at her. "You _knew_ about this?"

Chiori frowned at him. The occasional pushing-rivals-down-the-stairs incident aside, she was a consummate professional. The avarice in the presenter's gaze make her feel as if she was dealing with _amateurs._

It's just as well Chiori didn't have eyes in the back of her head, because the drooling producer on the other side of the room would have been even more disturbing.

"Can you clarify some issues surrounding their relationship?" demanded the presenter.

Lines pressed between Chiori's brows as her frown deepened. It was unusual for a host of a Japanese entertainment show to be so aggressive. "_'Issues'?" _she repeated skeptically. "In that tone of voice, don't you really mean _'unfounded rumors'_?"

"Which you can clear up," insisted the producer from behind her. "Don't you work with Kyoko-san in your new drama and at LME? The blogsphere has been crazy with speculation over the past few hours."

_That doesn't sound good,_ thought Chiori. Although it didn't matter to her personally, fans were another breed. No doubt Tsuruga-san's (rabid) female fans and Kyoko's (slobbering) male fans were tying up internet traffic on Dark Moon and Box R boards as they proclaimed the two unfit for each other, albeit for different reasons.

Seriously, though; anyone who had been at the scene of _Dark Moon's_ car-stunt-gone-bad not only knew about those two, they knew _those two_ were good for each other.

She briefly considered not going along with whatever the entertainment "news" vultures were planning. However, Chiori had been in show business all her life. She wasn't about to turn aside an opportunity for extra exposure when it happened, especially since she had spent almost her entire life seeking such exposure. "I'm here to talk about my starring role in my new drama. The interview must be about that."

"But –"

"If you want to talk about Kyoko-chan and Tsuruga-san later in the show and you feel that my professional input would be valuable," Chiori briskly continued, "I have no objection to staying around to help. I can even call Sawara-san and see if he has anything to add."

The news presenters were little more than readers, chosen more for their attractive looks than their show business acumen. The name meant nothing to either of them. However, "The head of LME's Talent Division?" squeaked the producer, his voice elevated several octaves higher than normal. "You have his number?"

Chiori reached into her purse and pulled out her smart phone. "He's in my contacts list," she said, voice carefully schooled to indifference. "If you think it's important enough to include me in the show's final segment, I can call him. Otherwise, we should start taping my interview now, shouldn't we? It would be unprofessional of me to waste your time when the show airs in just a few hours."

* * *

**On the way to the ****Darumaya**** Restaurant  
1710**

It had been a weird day.

As Kyoko experienced _weird days_ on a regular basis, that was saying something.

Fortunately LoveMe work kept her from thinking too much about Tsu– … about _Ren's_ very public display of affection. She also kept herself distracted by helping Kanae run through lines for her new role. Now that work was done and she was peddling home on her bike, odd incidents kept running through her mind. There had been strange looks all afternoon from her co-workers. Admittedly the pink jumpsuit was a magnet for strange looks, although not usually in the halls of LME. Some people had even out-and-out _gawked_ at her, which was odd behavior from the employees of a talent agency.

Moko-san snorted and told her to get used to it.

Thinking about her coworkers kept Kyoko from considering what Tsu_– … _what _Ren_ had done. Blushing, Kyoko bent her head over the handle-bars of her bike and increased her speed. As she was already only a blur to any pedestrian unlucky enough to be in her way, that meant she went from _dangerous_ to _very_ _dangerous_. It didn't shut down her thoughts. Yes, Kyoko had asked him to do far more than just kiss her on the cheek, but he had surprised her and it was so very public and _What was happening in front of the Darumaya?_

Kyoko slammed on the brakes.

* * *

**Rented Warehouse, **_**Trade Secrets**_** on-location shoot  
1720 **

Although it was Kanae's calling to be an actress, she did not enjoy gossiping about other people in "the business."

Especially when one of the _people_ that everyone from the grip to the assistant director wanted to gossip about was her best friend.

"You're in the same agency as Tsuruga-san and Mio-san, right?" demanded someone in the concession area almost as soon as she walked onto the set. "How brazen that girl is! Did you see the picture? Were you there?" Kanae's glare left him a gibbering mess.

"Isn't it surprising about that Natsu girl having her hooks in Ren?" commented the make-up artist as she added a few more fake bloodstains to Kanae's artistically-torn blouse. "That poor sweet man, being deceived by that_–_" which was as far as the artist got, because she was startled out of her wits as Kanae's head rotated in a way that was as unnatural as the vampire she was portraying (although it was probably related to the wig not being secured properly).

"I always figured he was gay," groused the somewhat-disgruntled second male lead. Kanae felt marginally more tolerant of him because he at least called Kyoko by name. Marginally. That lasted until she caught a glimpse of his cell phone screen and discovered it sported a publicity still of Kyoko for the desktop image, at which point she mentally labeled him a Beagle-type stalker and vowed he'd never get near Kyoko.

There was a surprising amount of sniffling around the set. Oh, not because Japan's Most Eligible Bachelor was off the market (at least, no one admitted to that), but because it was frigidly cold. Given that it was late January in an unheated empty warehouse, that was probably not too surprising.

The fact the center of the frigid cold whipped in blizzard-like waves from where ever Kanae happened to be between takes went unnoticed.

When Kanae flipped open her cell during one break and saw the number associated with the incoming call, she wasn't in a mood to be charitable. "I can't talk to you," she snarled into the handset. "I'll be mobbed if anyone here finds out it's _you."_

The plaintive screech nearly blew out her eardrums. _"Moko-san, I can't go home the place is surrounded I'm supposed to be making dinner what do I DOOOO?"_

It didn't make much sense, except to someone with years of experience in Kyoko-speak. "_Who_ has the Darumaya surrounded?"

The response was even more garbled. Kanae heard words like _flashes_ and _big trucks_ and _chicken_ (either something Kyoko planned on cooking that night or an obscure reference to Bo; Kanae wasn't sure which). She pinched the bridge of her nose, repressing a sigh. "The paparazzi found out where you live," she said, more statement than question.

"_That's what I said!"_

"I suppose it's not that surprising, really."

"_But what do they want with MEEEE?"_

"Mou! What do you _think_ they want! Your precious sempai kissed you in the lobby! It's all anyone is talking about!"

"_But – but that was my fault, he didn't mean to –"_

"How could he _accidentally_ kiss you! Did he trip and fall face-first into you or something?"

"_N-no, but he said I looked –"_

There was a sudden silence on the other end. For a moment Kanae thought Kyoko had been discovered. She didn't hear anything that sounded like stampeding paparazzi, however. As the silence stretched on, she dryly suggested an end to the sentence. "–looked like you needed to be kissed?"

"_Moko-san! No, he didn't say that!"_

_But something similar,_ Kanae thought darkly. "Where are you?"

"_I'm across the street."_

"And no-one's noticed you?" said Kanae incredulously.

"_I'm under a car." _

"A car," Kanae repeated, and this time she did sigh. "What does the car look like?"

"_Um, I don't know, I didn't look before I jumped off the bike and dove under here."_

"But it's directly across from the entrance?" There was an affirmative noise from the cell phone. "Don't move," Kanae said (which she almost immediately realized was a silly thing to say). "I'll call someone to come get you."

"_Don't send Ren, it's crazy here!"_

"Give me some credit!" snapped Kanae. "Stay put, stay quiet! I'm hanging up now!" Snarling under her breath, she hit the disconnect (cutting Kyoko off in mid-squeak) before searching through her contact list for an appropriate savior.

* * *

**The Street in Front of the ****Darumaya**** Restaurant**  
**1810**

Kyoko was cold. Late January was _not_ a good time to be hiding under a car for an extended amount of time. She wasn't sure which season was the most appropriate for hiding under a car. If tonight was any indication, she might have to research that.

Kyoko was cross. Her last five calls to Moko-san had gone directly to voice mail. Yes, Moko-san was taping her new supernatural show tonight, and, yes, it was unprofessional for Kyoko to keep calling her, but this really _was_ an emergency.

Kyoko was bemused. How on earth did Tsu_– …_ How on earth did _Ren_ kissing her on the cheek somehow give people permission to storm the Darumaya?

"Storm" was the wrong word, as there were far more people milling outside then could fit inside. "Besiege," perhaps? The street was closed off. Police officers were trying to direct traffic to alternate routes. Two huge satellite trucks from competing networks took up most of the space along the narrow road. The rest was a seething mess of people with cameras. A few fans had even begun to show up, apparently lured to the scene by internet posts. They were being interviewed by some of the television media, asked to give their opinions on the "shocking" relationship. So far it was evenly divided between people (girls) who thought she was a shameless hussy and people (boys) who thought Tsu_–_ … _Ren_ was a cradle-robber.

Kyoko tried not to listen, because it was simply too embarrassing. Instead she concentrated on studying their shoes, just in case she decided to recreate this scene using her dolls, as well as to take her mind off how cold she was.

She had spoken briefly to the Okami-san, who assured her that everything was under control inside the restaurant. Her husband was only allowing in those that ordered a meal. Business, apparently, was quite brisk. People wanted to see where Kyoko lived so they were buying food; they were intimidated by Taishou's glower so they were also eating rather quickly.

Kyoko didn't mention she was hiding out nearby. Taishou brandishing his knife as he pulled her to safety wasn't something she wanted to see on the morning news.

Because she was deliberately _not_ listening, it took a few minutes for her to realize someone was repeating her name, _Kyoko-chan,_ very quietly.

She didn't recognize the voice, but she did recognize the shoes. She had memorized the measurements and styles of almost everyone at LME, just in case she ever needed to make a doll based on them. She cautiously put her hand out from under the car. Glove-covered fingers wrapped around hers. "You're freezing," she heard Yashiro-san murmur in concern. "How long have you been under there?"

"Long enough," she grumbled.

Getting out was tricky. Kyoko had been lying on her stomach, arms folded so that her chin rested on her hands. Unluckily that meant her arms were asleep. She also had to squeeze out curb-side, which was a tight fit. Then there was trying to _casually_ slither out from under the car, as if it were a perfectly normal place to be. Fortunately Yashiro was prepared, shielding her by kneeling next to the car, then wrapping her in a large coat that Kyoko realized must be his. She tried to pull away after he helped her up, but he insisted on slinging an arm around her, as if they were two of the young fans here to gape at the restaurant. He was so much taller than she that she almost vanished underneath his arm. "It's alright," he whispered to her. "Getting stars away from the paparazzi is part of the manager's job."

"You've had to do this for Tsuruga-san? I mean, for Ren?"

"Not _this_ exactly, but similar. We're leaving, keep your head down."

The lights from T.V. cameras made the dark street bright as day. She kept her head down as requested, but protested, "My bike!"

"Leave it. You shouldn't be riding it anyway. It's too easy for these guys to waylay you when you're on it."

Earlier in the day she would have argued that statement, but spending a cold hour under a car hiding from the press gave Kyoko a fresh perspective. She still muttered about it as Yashiro-san expertly maneuvered them through the crowd. Kyoko could only admire how effective he was. Within a few minutes they were blocks away. Kyoko turned to stare at the glow in the sky created by the television lights, feeling a sense of deep disbelief. "Are they going to stay there all night?"

"Probably. I suggested to Kotonami-san that you sleep at her place, but she thought you had other arrangements."

"Other_– " _Kyoko started to question before cutting herself off with a blush. Of course; she was going to Ren's to cook, and hopefully to persuade him to be a bit more hands-on when it came to her research. That reminded her of something even more pressing. "Ren! I'm cooking for him tonight! I haven't shopped yet!"

"Kyoko-chan, your face is all over the Internet right now. You can't go to your usual place, you'll be recognized. If you're going to Ren's, why not go to the store there?"

"I can't shop there! The prices are outrageous, and the food isn't that fresh!"

Yashiro-san smiled at her, a wry twist to his mouth. "But it's in a secure building, which means you will avoid a mob scene like the one we just escaped. It's only for the moment, Kyoko-chan. Everyone will get used to your relationship, plus there will be other celebrity news to talk about in a week or two. All we need to do is survive the next few days, and we'll be fine."

Kyoko wasn't sure which was more difficult, thinking of herself as a celebrity or thinking of herself as being in a relationship with _the_ Tsuruga Ren. She was serious about her work, however, which meant she had to get to Ren's and continue her research. "Thank you, Yashiro-san. Ren's lucky to have you as a manager."

Yashiro-san gave her a strange look, opened his mouth, closed it with a grimace. "Yes," he said after a pause long enough to border on the awkward, "he _is_, isn't he? I hope you will think so, too, Kyoko-chan."

"Oh, I'm not important enough to have a manager," Kyoko reminded him.

For some reason, that made Yashiro-san laugh.


	10. Chapter 10

_Disclaimer: Don't own, not making any money off of_

* * *

**Tsuruga Ren's Apartment  
1915**

She was over an hour late.

And he was _not_ pacing. He was … taking laps. Around his living room. Perfectly normal way to get in some exercise before a meal.

While it was true Kyoko wasn't always on time when she prepared his meals, that was only because she was often early. Kyoko's insistence on professionalism even when cooking meant "late" never happened.

In any other circumstances, Ren would be worried that he'd moved too fast and frightened her off. However, Kyoko had a role to research; she was interested in him for professional reasons, not personal ones. As much as that rankled, her commitment to the role translated into commitment to him. Sadly, Ren was so desperate where Kyoko was concerned that he'd take what he could get.

Well, not _everything _he could get, Ren thought ruefully as he recalled the previous night. Kyoko was tenacious when undertaking research. Persuading her they didn't need to have sex right way was one of the hardest things he had ever done.

(Considering his libido was on overdrive, Ren immediately wished he hadn't included any variation of the word _hard_ in that thought.)

Last night, he had been tempted to say _I have a headache_; instead he settled for the almost-as-trite _I'm tired._

Admittedly, it had the advantage of being true. The part about not being up to "performing;" _that_ had been a flagrant lie.

(Much to his consternation, Ren's libido latched onto the word 'up' as a suggestion. His pacing increased to the speed of power-walking. It was fortunate he had such a large, sparsely-furnished living room. It was also a good thing his carpet wasn't of the plush variety or he would have carved a well-travel trail into it.)

_I want you. I want to date you, I want to be seen publicly with you, I want every other man to know it's hands off because you're __**mine **_was what he wanted to tell her last night. Research for her role or not, he imagined there would be nothing left but a Kyoko-sized hole in his wall if he said something so possessive. She was trying to convince herself that being with him a few times wouldn't be a horrible thing; his thoughts ran along the lines of rings and white dresses and red kimonos and 2.3 children.

There were also practical considerations of an immediate nature, such as the fact Ren didn't have condoms on the premises (it wasn't as if he'd needed any during the last several years) and he was damned sure birth control never crossed Kyoko's mind. Fairies probably didn't have to worry about consequences such as diseases and babies, he dryly noted to himself. It didn't mean _something_ couldn't happen tonight, it just meant intercourse wasn't possible.

(Ren thought using clinical words like _intercourse _would calm his libido down. Ren's libido thought that was a pretty amusing assumption.)

When his phone vibrated, Ren gave a credible imitation of Kyoko's phone-answering skills by nearly jumping out of his skin. Bracing himself for a cancellation, Ren fished the phone out of his pocket and tapped the screen to view the incoming text message. To his surprise, it was a terse missive from his agent.

_Done shopping. K on way down. Don't let her out of your sight._

The doorbell rang before he had time to be puzzled at Yashiro's cryptic final directive. Dropping the phone on the low table in the living room, Ren ran his fingers through his hair nervously before moving towards the door.

_All he saw at first were bags, stuffed full with every type of healthy food imaginable. "Kyoko-chan, you should have called me. I was worried when you were late."_

_Bags and all, she was on the floor at his feet in a carpet-hugging bow. "I'm so sorry Yashiro-san made me shop for all-healthy food because you would need your stamina after so many years of abstinence and I would have to forgive you for not being as good as your publicity suggests but it's all because he's such an awesome manager that people think your pathetic life is at all enviable! If your fans had one iota of sense they would pity you instead—"_

"_Please, get up," said Ren with a polite, professional smile that managed to be icy and condescending at the same time, completely destroying the poor girl's confidence and self-esteem. "You're crushing the food."_

"Tsuruga-san?" came a distant voice, muffled by the door. "Are you there?"

Ren blinked as his fantasy Kyoko evaporated. _No, we're not like that any more; we haven't been like that in years. I'm her boyfriend now, I don't have to be professional. I can be supportive and understanding even though I really _have_ been worried sick.._

Taking a deep breath, he opened the door.

She was not overloaded with bags. The two that dangled from her hand were emblazoned with the logo from the exclusive (and secret) store on the top floor, the one she refused to shop at unless it was an emergency. Ren winced a little, knowing Kyoko hated going there. Covering his unease with a polite smile, "Kyoko-chan, you should have called me. I was worried when you were late."

It sounded as banal in real life as it had in his fantasy.

"You could have at least told me you were upstairs." _I sound like I'm scolding her, stop it!_ "I would have come and helped."

She scuffed her foot against the floor like a school girl, which again reminded him of her general naivete and innocence. _Twenty-one, and I feel like a dirty old man. _"Yashiro-san said I couldn't go to the usual store. Not for a while, anyway," she said. "There's been too much publicity since this afternoon."

_As planned, _thought Ren. "Let me take those for you."

Instead of relinquishing the bags when he tugged on the handles, Kyoko tightened her grip. "I have to pay you back," she insisted, sounding aggrieved. "They wouldn't accept any money from me."

"Kyoko," sighed Ren as he firmly pulled one, then the other bag from her. "You're on my tab there, of course."

She looked shocked. "But, won't they think..."

"That you're my girlfriend?" asked Ren, keeping his tone deliberately light. "I certainly hope so. Isn't that what we decided?"

Truth be told, it was what _he _ decided. Kyoko eyed him askance but didn't bother to correct him.

Relieving her of the bags revealed something disquieting. She was wearing an oversized coat. No, not oversized; it was a _man's_ coat, one that hung loosely on her small frame. Ren's mind immediately flew to her most recent role, her research and _why she might be wearing some other man's coat_. He dropped the bags without ceremony, gently covering her shoulders with his hands. Her movement towards the fallen bags jerked to a halt with his touch. "Take your coat?" he asked, making sure his voice was at its most polite.

She shivered under his fingers, her shoulders hunching, but obediently shrugged out of the coat. Ren breathed a silent sigh of relief. She wore the pink jumpsuit underneath. She wouldn't wear that to an assignation unless she was given seduction as a LoveMe project.

Of course, that begged the question of why she wore it here when she was trying to convince _him_ to have sex with her. It made him wonder if, even after everything he said last night, she still considered sex with him to be more research than relationship.

Feeling a little like a butler, he folded the coat over his arm.

The front of her jumpsuit was stained with – grease? There was even a smudge of it on her nose. She looked adorable. He barely refrained from telling her that. Instead, "What happened?" Ren asked.

"Um, the press figured out where I lived," Kyoko mumbled, her tone abashed.

"What?" He hadn't expected that, and immediately realized he should have. Kyoko's living arrangements were far too unsecured for a public figure. It was amazing she hadn't had trouble with the press before tonight. "Are you all right?"

"Oh, yes, they didn't see me! Yashiro-san came and got me."

The coat was Yashiro's. Ren was equal parts relieved and annoyed. "You should have called me, Kyoko," he said again, irritation making him sound less stilted this time.

"No, no, it was crazy there, they would have recognized you—!"

"I _am_ an actor. They would have only recognized me if I wanted them to."

It was the wrong thing to say. Kyoko drooped still more. "I have so far to go before I catch up with you!" she said mournfully. "I can't even act well enough to deceive photographers! I'm not fit to play the role of your girlfriend yet!"

The only reason Ren didn't slap his forehead in frustration was because his hands were full of coat. "It's not a role, Kyoko-chan, remember? Since there isn't any security at the restaurant, perhaps you should stay here from now on?" _Careful, now. Don't get greedy. (But time is running out)._ "I mean in the spare room, of course, where you've stayed before," he added hastily.

It said something for Kyoko's state of mind that she seriously considered the offer. "Won't that be worse? You're the one they really want to get pictures of. What if they follow me here?"

"Most likely they're trying to get pictures of us together. We may need to re-release some publicity stills of Dark Moon to hold them off. There's a risk, yes, but I've lived here since I was sixteen without being discovered. It's safe."

Kyoko appeared impressed. "That's amazing! It only took them a few hours to find me!"

_Hizuri Kuon owns this flat, not Tsuruga Ren._ Unless they put together the pieces of his life that tied Kuon to Ren, the gutter press would spin its wheels looking for a phantom.

Kyoko picked up the bags from the floor, vanishing into the kitchen while Ren hung up the coat. When he tried to follow her into the kitchen, he was rebuffed. That was normal; she didn't like it when he helped her cook. On the rare instances when he insisted, however, Kyoko usually relented.

Once more underscoring that this night was not normal, Kyoko refused to relent. Instead of simply parking himself against the kitchen counter the way he had the previous night, Ren just-as-uncharacteristically backed down. _I don't want things to change between us,_ she'd said, but they were both being awkward and jumpy. Giving her a little space would make them behave more normally around each other, or so Ren hoped.

Banished from his own kitchen, Ren set the table before slumping onto the living room sofa. Gloom radiated from him. He was terrified that everything was going sideways. The sensation intensified when Kyoko finally emerged after nearly an hour. Since she insisted on simple Japanese fare, cooking usually didn't take more than thirty minutes. The meal was typical: miso soup, a pickled cucumber salad, some chilled tofu. The one atypical dish was toriniku no tatsuta-age. It was a time-consuming chicken dish that had to be marinated in a soy mixture before being breaded and fried. It always reminded Ren a little of chicken nuggets. On the rare occasions when Kyoko made it, she usually came into the living room while it marinated. Meat two nights in a row; Ren wasn't sure what that meant. Perhaps Kyoko really did think he needed stamina?

Considering how suggestible his libido was, she was probably right.

Normally conversation flowed easily between them as they discussed roles and people they both knew, but tonight the meal took place in near silence apart from the clacking of plates and cups. It felt like an especially awkward first date, which was absurd for a number of reasons. For one, Kyoko had been coming over for months to eat with him without any hint of discomfort on either side. For another, Tsuruga Ren didn't _have_ awkward dates, first or otherwise. Awkward social situations didn't exist for Tsuruga Ren; it went against everything grafted onto Ren's gentlemanly personae. And while awkward social situations may have existed at one time for Hizuri Kuon back when Hizuri Kuon existed, that didn't extend to his relationships with members of the opposite sex. Women came after him, often with only one thing in mind; there wasn't anything to be awkward about when both people were on the same (albeit shallow) wave length.

Even after they cleared away the dishes together, the tension was a living thing between them. They sat as far apart on the couch as they could, both unsure what to say or do. In desperation, "Let's watch T.V.," Ren finally suggested.

Nodding silently, Kyoko picked up the remote and turned on the T.V., automatically tuning it to the show she usually watched at this time.

**Japonet Scoop Broadcast  
2230**

"Welcome to Japonet Scoop, the show where you see what everyone's talking about before they talk about it! We have a full agenda tonight. First up is Amamiya Chiori, star of the hit new drama _School Ties—"_

(The rest of the opening spiel went unheard as Kyoko jumped up. "Chiori-san! They're interviewing Chiori-san!"

Seizing an opportunity to make the conversation more relaxed than it had been, "Isn't that the show I helped you with a couple of months ago?" asked Ren. "The one about the murder at the American high school?"

"Yes, but she's the star! I only started filming my part last week. It was fun! We did the flashback scene, where I was the homecoming queen! They gave me a dress with sparkles and a wig with long blond hair—"

"And a tiara?" asked Ren, daring to tease.

Kyoko pouted. "No, the director said it was 'too much'."

On the screen, the glaring pink background with the white balloon type proclaiming _Later —_ S_hocking news about Ren? _somehow went unnoticed as Kyoko continued to talk about her almost-fairy-princess outfit and Ren, hugely relieved to be in a normal conversation with her, egged her on with questions.)

"We're back with Amamiya Chiori, star of _School Ties._ Chiori-san, welcome."

"Thank you for having me," said Chiori with a shallow bow from her seat.

("Ooooh, look at her eyes! She's wearing new make-up!" exclaimed Kyoko. "I'll have to ask her about that tomorrow!")

"Your co-star is Kyoko-san of _Box R_ fame, correct?"

"Kyoko-chan is one of the co-stars of the drama, yes. This is a different type of role for her," Chiori graciously allowed. "She plays a nice girl that gets in over her head. I'm the police detective she went to school with."

"Of course, Kyoko-san is on the minds of many people right now—"

"—which we'll discuss later in the program," said Chiori with a charming smile as she looked directly into the camera.

There was a fractional pause before the presenter went on to ask another question about the new production.

("They mentioned me!" squealed Kyoko in delight. "But why would he ask about me like that?" Ren had the first inkling of impeding doom. He eyed the remote control. However, the mention of her name on the show she used to watch as a fan sent Kyoko off into la-la land, all sparkling eyes and girlish gushing. Ren watched her indulgently, somehow missing the bright pink screen that flashed briefly before the commercial break: _Up next — Natsu's revenge against __Mizuki__?_)

"She was originally scheduled to talk about her new drama in our second segment, but since she may have some insight on the breaking story everyone's talking about, we've asked her to participate in our host chat as well tonight." (Here a picture of Ren kissing Kyoko on the cheek briefly appeared. Kyoko yelped and stared in horror as the image dissolved into a shot of the two hosts sitting at the long desk, Chiori smiling from her perch between them.) "Please welcome back Amamiya Chiori, who co-starred with Kyoko in _Box R_ and works with both Kyoko and Tsuruga Ren at LME."

"Thank you, although I have to correct one little piece of information. My agency is Softhat. However, Kyoko and I are in a special division at LME called 'LoveMe.' I suppose you could say I'm like an exchange student."

"'LoveMe' is an ironically apt title, considering what everyone wants to discuss!" (On the screen behind the trio, an artfully-cropped image showing a close-up of The Kiss was presented, tilted against a pink background. In Ren's apartment, Kyoko clapped her hands to her face in mortification. Wincing at her distress, Ren reminded himself that the publicity was for Kyoko's own protection.) "What does the LoveMe division do, exactly?"

"It's hard to say what we do _exactly_," responded Chiori. "Our duties change day-to-day. There are a lot of in-character exercises to enhance our love of acting. It's essentially ad hoc training for any unusual situations an actor might find themselves in. I joined about a year ago, when Kyoko-chan and I were both working on _Box R._"

"We've heard the LoveMe section is quite exclusive. It's difficult to qualify for, isn't it?"

"You have to be approved by the President of LME before you can join," said Chiori with a bright smile. "The three of us – myself, Kyoko-san, and Kotonami Kanae – have had significant success after joining. Although we'll miss Kyoko-chan, membership is only supposed to be temporary."

("Noooo!" wailed Kyoko. "Moko-san must think I've violated our no-men pact! She's thrown me out of LoveMe!" Ren wondered if he could casually turn off the TV without making it look like he was hiding something.)

"The news about Tsuruga-san and Kyoko-san must have been quite a surprise."

"Actually," responded Chiori, "there had been rumors about the two for some time. I remember when Tsuruga-san had the accident during _Dark Moon. _We were nearby filming _Box R_. Normally Kyoko-chan is very professional, but she dropped everything to run to the scene. Taping was held up for quite a while." (The fact the director ran to the scene first was not mentioned, as the female host exclaimed about the romance of it all and the male host complained he wouldn't want his girl to see him in such an embarrassing situation. Ren watched Kyoko in concern. She was swirly-eyed in astonishment, amazed that anyone could misinterpret her natural concern for her sempai in such a way.)

"Kyoko-chan always knew where he was going to be, and when his breaks were so she could call him," continued Chiori. "Tsuruga-san often showed up after taping to drive her home. Although she didn't have a manager, his manager would help her with scheduling appearances and interviews. So although I understand this seems very sudden for people who don't actually know them, those of us that do aren't surprised."

"And of course, spending so much time at LME gives Chiori-san some special privileges."

"Yes, LoveMe is directed by Sawara Takenori, who is also in charge of the Talent Division there. I called him earlier to see what he knew."

"And 'what he knew' was really quite surprising!" interjected the female host.

"Yes, according to Sawara-san, Kyoko-chan and Tsuruga-san will shortly be leaving the agency—"

("Eh!" gasped Kyoko.)

"—to pursue their careers in the United Sta—"

(Ren's lunge for the remote control came too late.)

"EH! EEEEHH!" Kyoko screeched as she leapt to her feet.

**Tsuruga Ren's Apartment  
2300**

Kyoko stared at the television's blank screen.

She had been staring at it for several minutes.

Finally, as if each tiny move pained her, she ratcheted her head around a small fraction of an angle at a time until her wide-eyed gaze crossed that of her would-be lover.

Ren smiled his most charming, most sparkling, most _gentlemanly_ smile. "Ah, surprise?"


End file.
